


Bonded

by Selfmanic



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Deaf Character, Deaf Clint Barton, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 07:09:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21095450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selfmanic/pseuds/Selfmanic
Summary: Clint is a rare male omega and is hiding his orientation. While he's working as a mercenary he gets outed and forced into a heat. He's chained and hooded without his hearing aids and is forced to mate and bond with an unknown.





	1. Chapter 1

Ch. 1

Clint struggled with the chains binding him weakly as his heat built leaving him shivering with need. He’d known it was stupid to take a job that close to his heat but he needed the money to buy the heat suppressants he needed. He’d arrived to collect the final payment only to be jumped and pumped full of tranquilizer.

  
He jerked when something brushed his naked back. They’d stripped him except for the heavy hood that was fastened tight just under his chin. His hearing aids were gone leaving him flailing at the smallest shift in the air to the faint vibrations of the assholes laughter. Blind and deaf, they’d beat him on and off for a few days but with his heat coming on hard he’d been left alone. He knew that wouldn’t last.

  
Hands suddenly rubbed up and down his restrained arms for a long moment, massaging the aching muscles. He jerked hard but the chains kept him in place. He was deep in the heat, even that mild touch left him moaning around the gag in his mouth spreading his knees and trying to lower his chest so he could present to the alpha behind him.  
Suddenly cloth pressed rough against his body as the alpha pushed in, belt buckle scraping his hip and back, not even bothering to undress. Clint gave into the heat letting himself rut and moan as the pheromones from the alpha cloud his mind. He was only a mindless animal begging around the gag for more.

  
He came back to himself when one of his hands slips against the restraints, blood and broken bones easing the way. The alpha was gone and the room empty when he fought the hood off, only a silver patterned tie left to show that he’d ever been there. That and the pain wracking every inch of Clint’s body, he acknowledged with a small groan as he wrapped his broken hand in the material. He had a vague memory of the alpha being ripped away from him at some point but his memories are too patchy to do much with.

  
The pulled muscles and broken bones had nothing on the bloody bite that marked the back of his neck. The wound pulsed with every heartbeat and the smallest motion of his head pulled at it sending slivers of pain across his nerves. A bond bite, he’d been forcibly bound to an alpha, the one thing he’d sworn never to allow. Nothing he can do about that now, reminded himself harshly.

  
He hauled himself to his feet with a gasp, forcing his exhausted body to work. He needed to burn this place to the ground, it couldn’t get out that he was an omega, not if he wanted to keep working. Steeling himself he locked the pain away, he would deal with it later, first he had to find clothes and weapons.

  
Four hours later Agent Coulson was rescued from the mercenaries who were trying to pump him for information. He was dumped unconscious outside the compound before Hawkeye set explosive charges and burned the place to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch. 2

Four years later.

Agent Phillip J. Coulson sat in a meeting with A.D. Hill and Director Fury reviewing an upcoming operation. He was rubbing the small crescent shaped scar on his arm absently as he thought, the only reminder of his bond to an unknown criminal. The bite mark was too small to compare dental records accurately and he’d been too drugged after the heat to remember many features on the young omega he’d been forced on. There were only so many white muscular twenty somethings you could research before giving up when you didn’t know hair and eye color, or even how tall the young man was. 

The bond sat quiet at the back of his mind a distant hum of presence. They hadn’t been in contact long enough for the mental bond to expand as it did with most bonded couples. He occasionally got small flashes of pain or anger but they were rare.

“Director?” Sitwell asked, poking his head around the door before he could be asked in.  
“What is it?” Fury asked, clearly pissed that they’d been interrupted.  
“Sorry to interrupt but we just got notice of a male omega being offered for sale on the black market.”  
“What? That’s impossible. There are only a handful of male omegas on the planet.” Hill sputtered, starting to gather up the folders strewn across the table, this would take priority.  
“It could be a fake out, trying to sell a chemically altered male. It’s been tried before.” Phil pointed out, fighting the urge to rub at his scar.  
“Who’s offering the sale?” Fury asked, stating to pull up the information they had available.   
“Independent contractor but one of my contacts swears the deal is good and she’s offering the omega’s next heat as proof.”  
“See what the current bids are, we need to get the man out before he gets sold to some foreign drug dealer as a pet.”  
“Yes, sir.’” Sitwell said with a nod, disappearing to make more calls.  
“Phil, I want you on point for this. Get a team of betas together to run the extraction.”  
“Yes, sir;” Phil said with a nod, pausing when Fury stopped him at the door, lowering his voice.  
“I know you don’t like working with omegas since Portland. Will you be okay with this?”  
“At least this time we’re getting him out, sir.” Phil said with a bitter smile.  
“Yes, we will.” Fury said with a nod, clapping him on the shoulder.

The bond at least let him know that the omega had survived the attack that Hawkeye leveled at the drug lords who hired him. The mercenary sniper went on a killing spree taking out every financer and employee of the drug lord he could reach, completely decimating the organization. Since then he’d kept a low profile, only popping up on Shield’s radar once or twice for high profile jobs. Until the archer surfaced again that case was on hold.

“What can you give us, Sitwell?” Fury asked once they were all convened and the retrieval team ready to move.  
“The seller’s refused bids from several groups, known drug and war lords among them. I placed a bid with our contact and this was the response.” He said hitting play; a woman’s voice rang out crisp and emotionless without a hint of accent.  
“I’m willing to consider your offer. I’ll send the coordinates once the payment is received. He’s severely injured; you will need to bring medics.”  
“Send the payment.” Fury said with a huff, not liking funding unknown criminals. “If it’s an injured omega then we’ll need to move fast.”  
“You think she’s offering the sale to get the omega medical care?” Sitwell asked.  
“Sounds like it and if she’s willing to piss off the drug cartels to keep him safe then she knows exactly who she’s selling him to.” Phil said with a nod getting up and heading to the plane holding the rest of his team, they needed to move fast.

***

The coordinates led them to a small abandoned hotel in Montana. The smell of blood and preheat pheromones lead them to a small suite on the top floor. Phil slid into the room gun drawn yet holstered the weapon as the others quickly moved through the rooms and declared it clear. A pile of bloody bandages lay discarded to one side but it was the man on the bed that drew every eye.

The injured blonde lay watching them through unfocused grey eyes, a gun propped against one leg in a limp hand. Bloody bandages wrapped his chest and shoulders while black combat boots and pants hung low on thin bony hips. Muscle lay tight over bone showing lean strength but the young omega just looked exhausted and worn out with his hollow cheeks and dark circled eyes. The gun came up as Phil approached, eyes watching the wavering weapon.

There was no denying the man was an omega with the heady scent filling the room, the sweet scent of heat fighting with the bitter tang of an omega in distress and the iron reek of rotting blood. Phil raised his hands to show he wasn’t armed while gesturing his medic forward. He concentrated on planting his feet so he didn’t even lean toward the injured omega, no matter how his instincts were screaming that he needed to protect him.

“I’m Agent Phil Coulson with Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. We have medical staff to help you.” Phil said watching the grey eyes sharpen and dart over each person while the gun suddenly was steady and aimed for a perfect head shot dead center of his own forehead.  
“No restraints, no drugs.” The omega slurred voice rough and breaking.  
“We can work around that.” Phil said with a nod.  
“We may need to sedate you during your heat so you won’t aggravate your wounds. You’ll be kept in isolation and no alpha will be allowed near you, only beta medical staff will be allowed around you.” The lead medic put in, spreading her hands wide, “Can I check your wounds?”

A shudder ran through the man’s thin frame, the eyes drooping closed for a long moment while he fought with the pain he was in. The gun never wavered from where it was pointed at Phil’s head. Whoever this omega was, he’d had training with weapons and threat assessment, and he clearly recognized that Phil was the biggest threat in the room full of Shield agents. That or he had a conditioned response against Alphas, Phil was betting on the former.  
“Yeah,”

The gun finally dropped as the omega gave into a series of racking coughs that left his lips coated with blood. The medic was quick to drop to her knees next to the bed and ease the gun away, Phil collected it and tucked it into his own waist band as a second medic started digging out equipment. They got an IV running and bundled the omega onto a backboard and stretcher, the man suddenly looking much smaller than he had in the bed.

The helicopter took them straight to the helicarrier and the medics ran to the medical bay at top speed. The initial assessment he’d been handed didn’t look good. The omega had taken three gunshot wounds to the back, side, and chest. He had a partially collapsed lung, broken ribs, a lacerated liver, and a head wound that might indicate a concussion. 

Add in the low body weight, signs of malnutrition, and scars covering much of the man’s body the omega had been fighting for his life for years before it finally caught up with him; hours later the surgeon came out and walked over to Phil where he was sipping his third cup of coffee in the waiting room reviewing reports. The doctor discarded his cap and started to make himself a cup.

“Well, I can say the young man’s definitely a fighter. His scans came up with more healed broken bones and fractures than I’ve ever seen outside of combat troops. Most of the bad breaks are from childhood or early teens. His back is covered in old scars from a belt or cord of some kind. He’s a hand to hand fighter at the least with how many fractures we found in his hands and wrists.”  
“Boxer fractures?”  
“Exactly, he also has trigger calluses on both hands and a few other calluses that might be for a weapon but it’s not one I recognize. The surgical technicians also removed two hearing aids, I checked his ears and there’s extensive scaring so I’d say he’s there’s a good chance he’s profoundly deaf.”   
“How long for recovery do you think?” Phil finally asked, trying to push his mind past a mercenary that worked in the business while both deaf and hiding his sexual identity from constant exposure to the surrounding alphas.  
“His heat’s going to push things out a week or two.” The doctor said with a sigh, “Even sedated it’s going to stress his body. He should be over most of the major issues in a week but he’s going to be recovering his strength for at least six months. They’re going to be moving him to the ICU isolation ward shortly; I’ll get one of the nurses to grab you when they do.”  
“Thank you, Doctor Wells.” Phil said shaking the man’s hand and starting to gather up his work.  
“There’s one more thing you need to know.” The doctor said pausing. “He has a bonding bite on the back of his neck. I ordered a mold made but it looks several years old, I doubt we’re going to be able to recover enough for a dental match.”  
“I’ll add it to the things to discuss once he’s through his heat.” Phil said with a nod, trying to ignore the churning of his gut.

Had the young deaf omega been forced into a bond? Had he chosen to bond to someone or had he used it as leverage against someone? There were too many variables to consider but he hoped it was a chosen bond, his hand rubbing at the scar on his wrist for a long moment before he went to retrieve his coffee.  
“How’s he doing?” Fury asked as he walked over to join him.

“The doctors think he’s out of the woods but it’ll be at least six months of recovery considering his condition.” Phil said handing over the latest medical report the surgeon had left.  
“We ran down his identity.” Fury said handing over his own folder, “Clinton Francis Barton, enrolled in elementary school in Waverly, Iowa as a Beta, went into the foster care system when his parents died, disappeared off the radar after that in the official records, facial recognition has him in a few posters for Carson’s Circus as a marksman and archer, the ‘World’s Greatest Marksman’.”  
“The doctor did mention some weird calluses on his hands; they could have been from a bow.”  
“You think he was working as a sniper?”  
“It’s possible, that hotel was professionally stripped of any usable prints and the rest of his gear was missing. Someone made sure there wasn’t anything we could link back to his former associates. I’ll go back through the files we have on snipers jumping organizations.”  
“Add the Hawkeye file as well.”  
“You think Hawkeye’s a twenty year old deaf omega?” Phil asked lowering his cup in surprise. “We’ve been chasing Hawkeye for four years and there hasn’t been even the smallest rumor that he’s not a beta.”  
“Hawkeye uses a bow, and so does this omega. I refuse to rule out the possibility on designation alone.”  
“Of course,” Phil said ducking his head, “Sorry, sir.”  
“I know you have issues with omegas, Phil, but you need to stop thinking of them as the weaker sex. The man in there has spent his entire life fighting at a level that most people would have never survived. You go in there and treat him like a delicate flower and he’s going to knock your teeth in. Get your head on straight. He’s a skilled mercenary if the reports are right, treat him like one.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Write up the full mission report and have it on my desk by tomorrow.” Fury said with a snort, “I have a feeling Barton is going to be a handful once he’s back up to strength. Have him sign a contract once he’s awake, I want something to hold him here and I doubt a show of force is going to do it.”  
“Something I should know, sir?”  
“If this is Hawkeye, do you really think the security in the medical ward is going to keep him quiet?”  
“No.” Phil said with a sigh considering the few times they’d gotten close to Hawkeye only for him to disappear like he’d never existed. “I’ll have the security upgraded once he’s in a room.”


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3

Clint woke suddenly and went sniper still, his nose full of the antiseptic smell of hospital and pheromone neutralizer spray. He opened his eyes and scanned the room, twitching slightly when a nurse crossed into his line of sight. She pulled out a small white board and scribbled for a moment before offering him a sip of water.

Nurse Pam, Beta  
Pain scale 1-10?  
Clint read it with a sigh, taking another sip of water before he tapped his ears and mouth in the ASL for a deaf person before holding up six fingers.

Dr. Wilson, Beta, coming w/ hearing aids.   
I’ll bring meds for pain.

He nodded that he understood and signed thank you more out of habit than anything. The nurse returned a few minutes later with a scrub suited man and another in a grey suit looked way too expensive for a government stooge. He let the nurse help him sit up but he kept his attention on the alpha in the suit, right, Agent Coulson of Shield. He scanned for weapons and exits absently as the doctor wiped down his aids with alcohol and turned them on before handing them over. 

Clint felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease as he fitted the hearing aids and clicked his fingers to make sure they worked. Coulson stood to one side as the doctor explained his injuries and how long he’d been in the hospital, translation, bad and too long. He was looking at several months of rebuilding his muscle and stamina before he could even think of trying to run.

“Mister Barton, we’re going to need you to sign on with Shield in some capacity before we can release you from medical.” Coulson said with a bland smile, “Director Fury has authorized me to bring you into our pool of specialists. If you agree you would be assigned to a primary handler for your evaluation and training. Once you’re recovered you would be tested to see where in the organization you would have the best fit.”

Clint watched the agent silently while the nurse continued her duties, easing off his bandages and revealing lines of stitches from the surgery, chest tube, and bullet wounds. He’d always healed quickly and was glad to see no signs of infection. He might be able to get away now but there was still a chance they’d tagged him while he was unconscious, he’d need to test the limits before he tried to run.

“I’ll bring the necessary paperwork tomorrow and go over it will you. It goes without saying that you will have to go through extensive interviews before you’re allowed to work with the general population at Shield. We will also need to know the name of your bonded.”  
“You agreed to no restraints or drugs at the hotel.” Clint said flatly when the man finally paused, “I want the same guarantee now.”  
“You currently are on several pain killers and antibiotics, young man.” The doctor started looking angry.  
“What are your terms?” Coulson interrupted, voice and expression still mild.  
“No morphine or heavy pain medication. The antibiotics and others can stay but I want to be alert.”  
“I’m sure Dr. Wilson can accommodate your needs.” Coulson said giving the doctor a mild look that had him subsiding and gathering up the chart, so Coulson had some power in Shield Clint mused watching the interplay.  
“Don’t worry about trying to track down my bonded.” Clint said flatly shifting back into the pillows, “It was a forced bond, I went into preheat on a job. I never tried to track the alpha down and don’t want to.”  
“Very well but we have to note that you’re a bonded omega in your file. Only the Director and your handler will have access to that information.”  
“Fine.” Clint snapped, trying to not show how hard it was getting to keep his eyes open. Of course the suit noticed and left him to sleep moments later.

***

A week later he was released from medical and shown to the small bare room he would be using while being evaluated. He was surprised they hadn’t started him on weapons testing immediately but quickly realized they didn’t know he was Hawkeye or were ignoring that fact. Instead he went through hours of interrogation about the jobs and organizations he’d worked and took computer/written tests to see how behind he was on his education. 

He’d avoided outing too many of the more obvious missions that he’d done as Hawkeye but he really thought they would have caught on right now. It’s not like he’d exactly been trying to hide it, it was just no one bothered to ask. Hell, they’d called him the Amazing Hawkeye for a while in the circus, how was an intelligence agency ignoring that?

Every morning he was allowed to spend one hour in the gym before he was collected for the start of his day and he worked to push himself and get back into shape. Thankfully no one bothered him or offered to spar but it was clear that his designation had gotten out to the rumor mill from the looks he was getting. Different agents took him to each meal and appointments. He was never alone or unwatched and it was making him jumpy. He knew things needed to change soon when he started eyeing the vents they passed in the hallways.

He couldn’t fully suppress his smirk as they guided him into the weapons range for the first time. The place was empty this early in the morning and Coulson and another agent were waiting for them next to a table laid out with an insultingly small choice of weapons. He raised an eyebrow at his Handler and glanced back to the table not bothering to suppress a frown.

“Prove you’re competent with these and the weapons clerk will sign you out whatever else you’d like to qualify on. You’ll be brought out to the long range test field later this week for rifle work.” Coulson said gesturing him towards the table.

With a sigh he started. He named each weapon, its range and accuracy, as he broke it down. He pointed out spots of wear, metal fatigue, and flaws in the machining that would affect how the bullet flew. He broke down each weapon and reloaded with the waiting bullets at speed letting his mouth run, listing the issues with each substandard weapon before moving on to the next. The weapons clerk was fuming by the end of the examination but he gestured him to the line with the first weapon advising him to shoot one clip  
.  
“In what pattern?” Clint asked mildly, ignoring the ear protection the guy was holding out.  
“Excuse me?”  
“I’m a sniper and marksman.” Clint said chambering the first round, “How precise do you want it to be?”  
“Impress us.” Coulson said from his spot on the wall behind him.  
“Not enough distance or targets for that.” Clint said with a snort, “Can I hit multiple targets outside this lane?”  
“The range is yours for the next hour.” Coulson said silencing the clerk with a gesture.

Clint took a step out of the lane box so he had a clear line of sight and deliberately set the gun down and turned off his hearing aids. Coulson merely picked up a pair of ear protectors and tossed the second pair to the clerk. Clint gave him a moment to don them before he started firing steadily as he turned.

The range automatically recalled all the targets when Coulson hit a button, replacing them with fresh targets. There was one hole for every bullet in the clip dead center of every target. Clint gave the stunned clerk a feral grin when he collected the spent handgun and handed over the shotgun and five shells.

He quickly went through the rest of the weapons and Coulson started calling out for different things to be brought out. The three bows he was given he immediately dismissed as crap but he still shot a quiver with each testing the pull and how out of shape he was.

“It’s not exactly a popular weapon here on base.” Coulson said with a small smirk, “I’ll see about getting you better gear to work with once you’re out of the training classes.”

The next morning he was scheduled in hand to hand combat training with several instructors. He lost count of the number of openings he ignored or the way every supposed attacker hesitated before moving in. Even at his limited stamina he took them to the floor over and over again making the instructor more and more frustrated as he called for others to try until Fury stepped in.

“He’s a man fighting for his life people, not an omega. You think an omega can’t kick your ass? He just proved you wrong. Stop treating him like he’s made of glass and hit him! The next agent that pulls a punch is going to be on supply runs for the next month. Give the man a challenge, May.” He said with a sneer gesturing a smaller Asian woman forward.

Agent May stepped forward and took a fighting stance on the mat without comment. Clint mirrored her and couldn’t hold back a smile as the fight turned dirty fast, both of them well matched to the other. Clint was still grinning when she pinned him to the mat with a wrestling move and only let go when Fury called the bout.

“Nice moves; let me know when you want to spar again. I could use the workout.” She said giving him a hand up and a nod of respect before walking away, not a hair out of place.  
“Ready for the next bout or do you need a breather?” the trainer asked tossing him a bottle of water.  
“Bring them on.” Clint said grinning as he cracked open the bottle, spending the morning flattening alphas wasn’t a bad way to start the day.

***

Clint couldn’t decide what to make of Agent Coulson. He wore his everyday man’s attitude like a suit of armor and that mask rarely dropped. The man seemed to struggle with spending time around Clint, avoiding any conversations outside of safe topics and often coming up with excuses to leave a room soon after Clint entered. They did well together on the training runs while they both were acting professional but as soon as the training ended the Handler disappeared.

The worst part was when he started running missions with the man. Coulson was scarily competent as both an agent and a fighter, occasionally backing Clint up in the field but most of the time he was nothing but the voice in his ear, grounding him until the action began. The first few milk runs they gave them ran long and Clint got into the habit of snarking at the other man trying to get a reaction.

Normally he got along okay with alphas as long as they didn’t posture and try to throw attitude around. Coulson wasn’t that kind of alpha but still he seemed to be holding himself back from Clint. It finally came to a head when a mission went to shit and Clint was forced to ignore the commands to stay in his hide in order to make the needed shots. Coulson immediately started ranting about insubordination when he got back to the safe house; Clint finally snapped snarling at the other man.

“What the hell is your problem?” Clint demanded kicking his discarded gear out of the way.  
“My problem?” Phil asked his eyebrows going to his hairline  
“Yes, you! You keep saying I need to trust you to have my back but you clearly don’t trust me to have yours! How the hell can I trust you when you won’t even talk to me?”  
“We talk all the time, you never shut up on coms.” Phil snapped.  
“Because you don’t talk to me, I know nothing about you! I knew Sitwell has a dog and is dating another agent within ten minutes of being on an op with the guy! We’ve been running missions for almost a year and I don’t know a damn thing about you except that you’re a good fighter and a good handler for Shield. That’s it.”  
“You don’t need to know more to work with me.” Phil snapped.  
“I think I do.” Clint snapped, “You don’t seem to treat anyone else like this, is it because I’m an omega?”  
“No, I just…”  
“What? Tell me because I can’t figure it out.” Clint said subsiding against the wall.  
“A few years ago I was captured during a mission. Trying to track you down actually.” Phil said with a humorless laugh leaning back against the kitchen counter, “The drug runners threw me in with a male omega and I forced a bond on him. We never managed to find him.”  
“I look at you and I see what that omega might have gone through, how he might have suffered. I never wanted a bond in the first place and now all I can see is how he might be hurt with no way for me to help him.” Phil said running a hand through his hair before walking into the small living area and dropping onto the couch with a sigh.  
“Most alphas wouldn’t worry about an omega. We’re property.” Clint pointed out taking a chair to one side.  
“That’s what worries me. It’s different in Shield but most of the world still thinks they can own other humans. What if he got punished for being bonded to me? What if someone has him locked up somewhere? I know an omega isn’t helpless, you’ve shown me that if nothing else but an alpha is supposed to protect their bonded at all cost.” Phil said with a snort. “Instead I lost mine.”  
“Do you have a full bond to him?” Clint asked watching the man rub at a scar on one wrist.  
“No, I get flashes of emotion sometimes or pain but it doesn’t happen often.” He said with a shrug.  
“I don’t even get that.” Clint said with an almost silent laugh, “I only know mine’s alive because the bite’s still there.”  
“Did you ever meet any other male omegas?”  
“No, a few female omega work as mercenaries and one of them helped me get started when I was just a kid. Showed me how to get heat suppressants and how to act like a beta.”  
“Can I ask you something?” Phil asked shifting back into the couch.  
“Sure.” Clint said with shrug shifting to lean against the wall.  
“Why don’t you ever talk about your time as Hawkeye? Most of the handlers have been avoiding the topic since you never bring it up.”  
“At first it was habit,” Clint said with a shrug, “I only answered to Hawkeye on jobs. The rest of the time I was just the traveling mercenary. Most people never even saw me; everything was done over the phone or from drop points. I got used to being faceless. It feels weird to have someone call me that.”  
“We were considering using it as your call sign but that got scrapped considering you never acknowledge the name openly.”  
“For a while I wasn’t even sure you’d connected me to Hawkeye. Most people don’t exactly think well known master assassin and connect it to a short deaf omega from Iowa.”  
“I knew the second I saw you pick up a gun.” Phil said with a small real smile, “You were so disgusted with the weaponry but you came alive for the first time while you were shooting.”  
“Tell me something about you.” Clint said suddenly after a short silence.  
“Like what?”  
“Favorite color.”  
“Blue. What about yours?”  
“Green.” Clint said getting up and starting to pack up his scattered gear that he’d thrown down earlier.  
“What was your favorite thing from childhood? Mine was my dog, Captain.” Phil said moving into the kitchen and starting a pot of coffee.  
“Captain what?” Clint asked blinking, he wasn’t even sure he had a good memory from his childhood.  
“Just Captain, though I was a bit obsessed with Captain America growing up.” Phil said blushing faintly.  
“What kid wasn’t?” Clint said with a shrug, “I tried to read the comics for a while but I never had enough pocket money to keep up and once we hit the orphanages I stopped trying.”  
“How did you hide your dynamic so completely, anyway? We tracked down every bit of information we could find and there wasn’t anything about you being an omega. You’re listed as beta in all your school records.”  
“I presented late, until an omega hits their first heat all their blood work and everything shows as beta. I got lucky and there was an omega in the circus who knew what was happening when I started my preheat. She got me out of there and somewhere safe until it was over. After that I would just disappear randomly, I got caught a few times but I did okay since we travelled around so much. No one could report a random male omega when they’d been the one to beat and rape him anyway.”  
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”  
“It’s over and at least in Shield I don’t have to worry about it.” Clint said with a shrug, “Fury’s even promised to make sure I have suppressors for my next heat.”  
“You never wanted a bond, did you?”  
“My parents were two bonded betas. I know it’s not the same for them since they don’t get the mental bond but my mother refused to leave him because of it. No matter how much he beat on all of us, she stayed by him because they were bonded. I never wanted that. Now, I’m damaged goods anyway, the whole point of having an omega is the bond, no one wants to date someone who’s already bonded.”  
“I’m sure you’ll find someone eventually.”  
“Like you? Do you date, Coulson?”  
“No, but it’s more because I’ve had the job ruin too many relationships at this point.” Phil said with a shrug handing him a cup of coffee. “So, ten hours until extraction.”  
“Help me clean the place and I’ll let you borrow my book.” Clint said adding cream to his coffee.  
“How did you know I finished mine?”  
“You’ve been staring at page two hundred for days.” Clint said with a grin, “If you’re not done then the book isn’t worth trying harder.”  
“Fair enough,” Phil said with a laugh, “Strip the bedroom while I finish with the inventory in here.”


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

After ten years working with Phil they were one of the best teams in Shield, add in Natasha and they were the best Strike Force in the international game. Phil had become his best friend with Natasha coming a close second. They spent downtime and holidays together, patched each other’s wounds in the field and slept by hospital beds when one of them was wounded. They were three parts of a whole, a pack and family, something he’d never thought he’d get.

They’d started being separated on more missions in the last year or two but Clint respected the work they did too much to complain. He stalked the catwalks above the tesseract and tried to ignore how his gut was churning, he wanted his partners at his back. Phil was due to arrive on base within the hour but it didn’t calm him down like it normally would. He didn’t trust the alpha scientists below or their casual arrogance with how they handled the cube, something like that was playing with fire.

He’d argued with both Fury and Phil when he’d been given the assignment. His gut said they were messing with things that should be left alone. Some powers corrupted and the tesseract sent his hand reaching for a weapon the same as the few truly evil men he’d known and killed.

When Fury arrived he waited for him to pull the plug on the whole mission hoping it would be in time before someone did something stupid. Instead an alien stepped through and the scepter swept his mind and body in ice locking him away. Even the smallest changes that deviated from what Loki wanted left him screaming internally from the pain but he didn’t shoot Fury in the head or hit Hill during the fight. 

He hoarded what strength he had, whining silently as each arrow or bullet that he didn’t divert killed an agent or guard. He tried not to see the faces, not to acknowledge each blow. He threw everything he had into the battle when Natasha reached him, please god let it end.

***

He was teetering with exhaustion when they finally were dragged into the shawarma shop by Stark and served. Clint picked at his food and tried to get his brain to stop replaying the last four days over and over again, every moment washed in blue ice. He wiped absently at the sweat trickling down his neck only to hiss as he hit an open wound.

Natasha snatched up several napkins when he was frozen staring at his blood covered hand. His bite was bleeding. That didn’t happen, a bonding bite never changed unless the bond was broken and that only happened if one of the members died. 

“Where are you hurt?” She snapped wiping off his hand, forcing his eyes up to meet hers.  
“My bite’s bleeding.” He stuttered out, ignoring the chaos that statement unleashed. 

He reached with his mind for the faint presence that was always at the back of his mind. The small hum that said he wasn’t alone. He reached and reached but it was gone, he blinked dumbly as Natasha dragged him staggering out of his chair.

“We need to get him to medical. There should be a road block a few blocks away.”  
“Wait, who is he bonded to?” Stark asked tossing some money at the startled servers.  
“I never asked.” Natasha snapped, gathering up his quiver and bow and staggering out the door as fast as she could get him to move.  
“But…”  
“Leave it, Tony. Do we need to bandage his neck? That’s a fair bit of blood.” Bruce said tripping over some rubble as the rest of the team jogged after them.   
“This is part of your kind’s marriages? Jane said she was a Beta but I do not know this word Omega.” Thor asked jogging after them but clearly not understanding what was happen.  
“Bites don’t bleed much but the breaking bond might cause a reaction.” She snapped, “We need to get him to a medic before that happens.”  
“What does she mean exactly?” Steve asked moving forward to help support Clint, the two of them almost dragging the shorter man along.  
“Most omegas don’t survive having their bond’s broken. They die when their mates do.” Bruce said quietly before he started explaining the three genders on earth to Thor.

Steve staggered when Clint suddenly went limp with a whine. Natasha cursed in Russian, tapping at his face and calling his name. Steve caught him up bridal style surprised at how light the man seemed to be, breaking into a jog. Natasha ran ahead calling out to the first medic they came to.

“He’s not breathing right, Widow.” Steve said as they eased Clint down on his side while the medic started checking his vitals.  
“Clint?” She said tapping at his cheek until his eyes fluttered open and focused loosely on her face, “That’s it, deep breathes, Agent. Talk to me, you need to stay awake, Clint.”  
“Tasha.” He slurred at her blinking like the sunlight was blinding, bloody tears sliding from his eyes.  
“That’s it, keep talking.” She said rubbing one of his hands like she was trying to warm it. Behind them Stark was snapping into his phone trying to get someone to take them to the nearest hospital.  
“Pepper? Yes, I’m fine, I know I scared you. I’m sorry. Listen I need a helicopter to my location ten minutes ago. No, listen, one of Phil’s agents is an omega and his bond broke, the mate probably died in the battle. We need to get him to a hospital. Yes, now. No, he’s bleeding from his eyes, Pepper; he needs a neurosurgeon, not the rent-a-medic that’s treating him. Thank you, I’ll call back as soon as we get him stable. Love you.”  
“Keep talking, Clint. Tell me something.” She said opening his Kevlar vest so the medic could check his heart and lungs.  
“Phil brought his cards in. Was going to show Cap and get them signed.” He slurred twitching as she wiped at the blood sliding down his face, his nose adding to the mess.  
“I’m sure he was thrilled. Good, what else?” she prompted moving out of the way so that the medic could take his blood pressure.  
“I shot Fury in the vest, it fucking hurt to not take the head shot.” He said coughing weakly, she wiped at the blood that slid from his lips with a shaking hand.  
“I’m sure he appreciated it. What else? What hurts?”  
“Head, feels like something was ripped out,” He slurred drunkenly, watching dazed as the medic backed off saying there wasn’t anything else he could do.  
“Well, I did hit you pretty hard.” She said ruffling his hair gently.  
“Prob’ly deserved it.” Clint slurred letting his body go limp as the waves of pain built.  
“It’s a psychosomatic response, nothing physical is actually wrong.” The medic said to Steve backing away when Natasha stood turning to snarl at him.  
“He’s bleeding, that’s not nothing! There are symptoms, treat the symptoms.” Natasha snapped at him.  
“I don’t have the equipment, his vitals are too low but beyond that he’s fine, there’s no reason for the blood loss. What the hell is an omega doing in a fight anyway?”

Clint lost the rest of the argument as the pain in his head amplified, things shifting and tearing as it adjusted to the missing bond. The seizures took them all by surprise. Ten minutes later the medic had a black eye and the helicopter staff watched in shock as blood covered super heroes carried a downed man aboard.

“We need to head to the closest hospital, this man’s bond broken and he’s been unconscious ten minutes.” Bruce said quickly rattling off the last set of vitals he’d taken after Natasha had attacked the medic.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5

Steve and Natasha settled into the hospital room Agent Barton finally ended up in. Tony and Bruce had taken Thor back to the tower to sort out what was going to be done with his brother while the rest waited on Clint to wake up. The archer looked too small and young against the white sheets Steve thought with a frown. Shield wanted to transfer him to a military hospital once he became more stable but for now they were stuffed into the private room that Stark had wrangled them in the overfull hospital, probably by buying a wing.

“Did you know he was an omega when you joined up with Shield?” Steve asked fiddling with the pencil and notebook someone had brought in, absently sketching the still form before them.   
“I sent Clint to Shield when he was injured during a job. We’d worked together before and I admired his determination to subvert what people believed an omega was capable of. He brought me into the organization a few years later when several off shoots of the Red Room were hunting me; Shield helped us take them down.”  
“Did you know him before his bond?”  
“No, he was bonded for several years before I met him.” She said with a frown, “I know he was young, he hadn’t been that long in the business. A small time drug lord he was working for caught him when his heat hit early. He was forced into a bond and he burned the organization to the ground when he recovered.”  
“Does the length of the bond change the effects?”  
“There’s no real research on breaking bonds. Shield outlaws experimenting on omegas and with male omegas being so rare there’s almost no data to compare, most are forced into a bond at eighteen or are sold into a marriage as a child. The general belief is that when an alpha dies, his bonded omega dies with him but there are documented cases of them surviving.” She didn’t bother pointing out that most hadn’t survived long.

They both fell silent as Clint shifted in the bed with a faint whimper. Natasha quickly moved to take a seat at his side, smoothing a hand through his sweaty blonde hair. The injured man settled back into sleep but the machines continued their agonizingly slow progress, none of his vitals were where they should be for someone his age and fitness. The doctors had pumped the small man full of fluids and blood to raise his blood pressure up to a safe level but he continued to linger more than half dead in the hospital bed.

Ten hours later he shifted again with a groan, curling into a tight ball. Natasha gently rubbed at his shoulders avoiding the worst bruises and the red stained bandage on his neck. The bite continued to bleed sluggishly, the wound probably deeper than the original injury. The doctors were fascinated and had been determined to document every minute change to the injury until Natasha threatened to castrate the lot of them.

“Tasha?” Clint slurred weakly, uncurling slightly to glance around him with unfocused eyes.  
“Right here, Hawk.” She said with a small smile of relief.  
“Head hurts.” He muttered whining fitfully when she tugged him onto his side so she could fix the sheets.  
“I’ll get a nurse to check him.” Steve said, moving out into the hall.

Clint endured the quick check up silently, only grunting one word answers when pressed. They upped his pain medication and got him some water before finally leaving with promises for more tests that afternoon. The doctors were still eying Natasha wearily and kept the exam short at least.

“Is Phil still on base?” Clint asked as he curled back around a pillow letting the medication pull him back towards sleep.  
“Phil?” Steve asked with a frown, not sure if he knew someone by that name but it sounded familiar.  
“He means Agent Coulson; he was our handler for missions with Shield.” She said sitting back next to Clint, “Phil died in the fighting, Hawk.”  
“Was it me?”  
“No, Loki.” She said shifting so that he could see the see the small hand sign they used when information might be a cover story.  
“Oh.” He muttered subsiding back into bed. “Anyone else?”  
“No one that you worked with often.” She said with a frown, “How do you feel?”  
“Tired, like Budapest with a little of Minsk thrown in.” He said with a sigh burrowing into the pillows. 

Budapest was a milk run that turned into a three day siege that sent them fleeing wounded through the sewers. Mink had been an intelligence gathering mission that sent them deep into cover, both making it out without a scratch but leaving them screaming in their sleep for months afterwards from the atrocities they had seen and the blood they had been forced to spill. He’d been asleep for a few hours when Steve finally broke the silence.

“He scared you, didn’t he?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“He normally doesn’t act like this, like he’s a fragile omega, does he?” Steve asked pulling out his sketch book and showing her two opposing pages, one with a sketch of Clint in his armor arrow drawn and muscles taunt perfectly in control, the other him in the hospital bed nothing but limp exhaustion and bruises.  
“Clint’s spent his entire life trying to prove he wasn’t a fragile omega, Steve. He pushes himself harder than anyone I’ve ever known.”  
“Even when he’s injured?”  
“Even then, normally he’d be pushing to leave the second he woke up in medical. He’s got a well-earned reputation for escaping hospitals with broken bones and concussions. He doesn’t trust strangers to be near him when he’s injured.”

They finally convinced the doctors to release him two days later. There was nothing actually wrong with him now that his injuries were healing, even the bonding bite mark, but he was constantly exhausted, sleeping up to twenty hours each day. He’d lost weight and continued to do so, picking at the food they could get him to eat but he was eating a small amount and drinking normally at least.

Hill and Sitwell came to take his statement the day before he was to be released. Clint had gotten one of the nurses to buzz cut his hair and he looked like a cancer patient with his hollow cheeks and dark circled eyes. He’d spent a few hours each day since he’d woken working on his report so he was able to hand over the list of assets and names that he’d used to help Loki.

“Both of you will be on stand down for one month. Barton you’re going to have to recertify when you come back so make sure you’re ready for the physical exams.” Hill said with a frown as she surveyed the exhausted man before her.  
“Yes, Ma’am;” Clint said giving her a tired grin but was relieved when they left.  
“I doubt they’re going to want me on base for a while, mind if I stay with you for a few days?” He asked glancing at Natasha.  
“My building was damaged in the attack.” She said with a frown, “Stark is offering everyone rooms in his tower if we need a place to stay. We might want to take him up on it.”  
“More secure than a hotel at least.” Clint said with a sigh.  
“He has an indoor range and gym so you won’t get out of practice.” She offered with a grin. “He still hasn’t let me spar against him since I floored his bodyguard.”  
“Happy isn’t exactly the most trained bodyguard but he was a good boxer in his day supposedly, Phil was impressed at least.” Clint said tossing the hospital gown away and struggling into a black tee-shirt.  
“Planning to run away early?”  
“Maybe they’ll kick me out early if I look ready.” He said with a laugh, pulling on his pants but leaving off the boots for now.  
“Have you ever felt like this before?”  
“Right after the bond,” he said with a huff levering himself back into the bed and sprawling across the messy sheets. “I was in heat for almost four days before I came out of it. They held me a week total with only a few meals and water. I crashed hard when I finally stopped running; took me almost two months to trust myself enough to start hunting the rest of the group down.”  
“Why did you cut your hair?”  
“I’ve had it this short before.” He said shutting his eyes like he was trying to sleep.  
“The last time you cut it that short was because medical had shaved half of it off already.”  
“The nurse was bugging me to wash it. I just didn’t have the energy to care;” He said with a sigh, shifting in the bed, “I figured this would be easier for a while.”  
“Two months.”  
“That’s what it took last time.” Clint said giving up and turning his head to look at her, “Every instinct I had was screaming at me to find my bonded, Tasha. For all I knew he was one of the assholes who captured me, a drug runner. I hurt the more distance I put between us.”  
“You’re in that much pain now?”  
“No,” he said shaking his head with a sigh, “Now it just feels like something’s missing. I keep reaching for the hum of the bond and it’s not there. It’s like walking into a glass door. You don’t realize it’s there and then, wham. The bond got ripped out of me and now I’ve got to let it heal.”  
“Fine,” She said running one hand over the fuzz of his short hair, “we treat this like any other injury. You have a week to sleep in and eat pizza, and then I expect you on the mats with me to spar.”  
“We have a ride for tomorrow?”  
“We’re going meet everyone for Loki’s send off in the morning. After that I thought we would head back to the tower.”  
“Great.”


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

The sendoff was surprisingly anti-climactic considering how flamboyant the Asgardian people seemed to be. They scattered in several cars pretending to scatter to the winds while most of them simply drove for a while before returning to the tower. Clint slept for most of the drive, dragging himself back into the tower after Natasha before collapsing into the first chair he found and sleeping until she forced him up for dinner.

“So, do you want me to try and track down your bonded?” Tony asked fiddling with a tablet and a glass of caramel colored drink that Clint had been trying to identify, it smelled like some kind of tea but looked like a convenient replacement for him well known scotch.  
“Excuse me?”  
“I mean, I know he’s dead at this point but do you want to know about him?”  
“What’s the point, he’s dead.” Clint said with a sigh pushing away his plate, “Shield tried to track the dental records when I joined but the bite was too old.”  
“I hacked Shield years ago;” Tony said with a grin, “I can pull up the old medical records and run a search if you want. Probably will only take a few hours given the firepower I have to throw at it.”  
“Whatever,” Clint muttered dumping his plate and heading towards the elevator.  
“I expect you to be up to spar with me in the morning, Hawk.” Natasha said firmly as the door opened.   
“Yeah,” he muttered getting into the elevator and watching as the doors closed. “She’s going to kick my ass.”   
“Your bags have been set just inside the door, Agent Barton.” Jarvis said the elevator opening to show a wide hallway that opened into a high end loft apartment with thick white carpet that Clint sank into as he stepped over to his bags.  
“Thanks, Jarvis, um, do you think you could call me Clint?”  
“I’m afraid that I have been programed to address guests by their surnames.”  
“I’m not exactly a guest if I’m living here, Jarvis.” Clint pointed out dragging his bag of clothes into the bedroom. “I feel weird calling you by your first name when you use my last name.”  
“I will attempt to use your first name in private, Clint; however in public I must retain my programming.”  
“I can understand that, thank you.” Clint said crawling onto the massive bed with a groan, he’d put everything away tomorrow.  
“I’m sorry for waking you, Clint, but Agent Romanov asked that you be ready for sparring within the next hour.”  
“It’s fine, Jarvis. Wish I wasn’t so tired all the time.” He muttered gathering up some clothes and making his way to the shower.

It took most of the hour to force himself through his morning routine and down to the gym. Natasha took in his disheveled look with a frown but tossed him the tape for his hands. They barely spared for half an hour before she banished him to the weight machines. He was a wreck of sweat, chest heaving while she was barely flushed.

He dragged himself upstairs for another shower when she finally released him from the torture session. He scrubbed himself down and ripped off the wet bandages with a frown, the bite was a jagged pink scabbed thing that was slowly healing.

“Would you like me to order bandages for you bathroom, Clint?”  
“No, I’m going to leave it open.” He said twisting to see the back of his neck in the mirror, “It’s healing.”

He forced himself to bypass the bed and drag the bags of weapons away from the door and into the living room. Natasha woke him for lunch with a grin, helping him gather up the half cleaned weapons and arrows that lay scattered around him on the carpet.

Clint continued to push himself, trying to recover his strength and energy but he still was exhausted. Nothing, not even sleeping for almost an entire day one time seemed to help. It had been over two months now with no sign of his body going back to normal; at this rate he was never going to be an agent or avenger again.


	7. Chapter 7

Ch. 7

“I wanted it to be Phil.” Clint muttered late one night while Natasha was curled against him.  
“Who?” She asked shifting sleepily against him, pressing a kiss to his temple.  
“My bond mate,” Clint said with a sigh, stretching and scratching at his healing bite until Natasha smacked his hand away. “He forced a bond once when he was captured on a mission. It’s why Phil never dated.”   
“I never knew.” Natasha said shifting to sit against the headboard since they clearly weren’t going to sleep while his mind was churning.  
“I wanted him to be my bond mate but if he’s not dead then it’s not him, is it?” Clint asked rolling over to glance back at her.   
“Whatever’s going on its hidden at every level, I can’t find anything, not even vague rumors but Fury isn’t looking as worn so he must be doing okay.”  
“Good, do you think they’ll bring us in later?” Clint asked his expression wistful, he knew Fury tended to lie but Phil had always been honest with them when he could.  
“We can only hope. He might be working on something bigger than even the Avengers if he stays dark much longer.”  
“Yeah,” Clint said with a sigh curling back against her side.  
“Even without Phil we have a good team now.” She said gently carding her fingers through his slowly growing hair, “The Avengers will need us now that other worlds have found earth and we always can help with Shield missions when there’s down time.”  
“If I can get back in form,” Clint said eyes drooping.  
“You will, it will just take time.” She said softly not expecting a response from the sleeping man. 

Her eyes picked out how much weight and muscle the other man had already lost in the six weeks since the battle. It would be a long road back if he did manage to get his energy back. She hated to see the archer wasting away before her eyes all because of a bond that he’d never asked for. She knew Clint would keep fighting until his body gave out on him, it was his way but she hated to see him brought down by biology after he’d spent his entire life defying his gender.

***

He was having a bad day; Clint decided curling deeper into the couch cushions. Life had been better before the aliens, Loki’s mind trip, and Strike Team Delta being dissolved. Even being benched from Shield didn’t seem to matter when you looked at the rest of the crap he’d been through that week.

He missed Phil which somehow seemed the worst part of everything. Phil would know how to fix him, even if he didn’t he’d come up with a way to do it. Phil did the impossible when it came to the agents under his care, he’d do it for Clint if he was here. He wanted Phil back he thought, curling up and crying himself to sleep.

Hours later when Bruce came to wake him for lunch he lay unresponsive. The light shakes and gradually louder calls did nothing to pull him from the darkness. He didn’t feel the frantic slaps from his team mates or the medics that bundled him onto a backboard and into a quinjet, taking him to Shield medical.

“Is there anything else we can do?” Bruce asked eyes on the vitals that were slowly and steadily declining.  
“Medical science only goes so far, we just don’t have many cases of an Omega female surviving a bite, much less a male. The fact is we have no idea how to treat him.” The doctor said frowning at the limp form they were watching.  
“All of this started when he was captured by Loki, what if it’s a reaction to magic instead of his bond breaking? I mean, we don’t even know who his bond mate is to try and find them.” Tony pointed out, his research into Clint’s bond mate having been abandoned, there just wasn’t enough detail left in the scar tissue to provide a match.  
“Magic isn’t something that Shield has a great deal of knowledge about, I’m afraid. We’ve contacted the few specialists we have but they say he doesn’t have any magic left in his system that would be causing this.”  
“Time to call in a second opinion then,” Tony snapped bolting up and hurrying out of the room.  
“What are you thinking, Tony?” Bruce asked hurrying after.  
“An asgardian did this, right? Then an asgardian can fix it. We contact Thor and get their healers or whatever to look at Clint. They owe him that much.”  
“How are we supposed to contact them exactly, we don’t have the technology right now.”  
“If ET can phone home, we can figure out how to get an Asgardian on the line.”  
“Tony,”  
“No, we are going to make this work. We can’t let someone die just because it’s something our current level of science can’t explain magical diseases.”  
“You’re right.” Bruce said hurrying to catch up with the engineer, “Who can we contact that would know the most about Asgard?”  
“Right now, I have no idea; probably a professor of Viking History the way things are going.”

Two hours later they were on a conference call with a leading historian on Nordic legends. Bruce looked over the stacks of photocopied legends and the dozen candles they’d rounded up. The procedure seemed too simple to work, a candle carved with runes and a simple prayer directed to Heimdall hoping to catch his attention.

Tony was going to keep working on the science end of possible treatments while Bruce tried to contact Asgard with every method they could cook up. Steve was on the other side of the country going through Shield boot camp and Natasha was still out of the country on an emergency mission for Shield. The doctors were talking about putting Clint on a ventilator soon if his breathing didn’t stabilize. Whatever was going to happen, it needed to happen soon.

Bruce was on his fourth round of prayers to Heimdall when the pillar candle suddenly went up in flames, the wax utterly consumed. He stumbled back with a shout, shivering as he forced his heartrate down. Thankfully they already had shut off the fire alarms and sprinkler system, Bruce thought in a daze looking at the scorched ceiling. 

“What’d you do?” Tony called out, ducking back into the room.  
“I think we got a response, the entire candle just went up in a pillar of flame.”  
“Well, a massive storm just started out of nowhere centered on the building. I’d say we got somebody’s attention.”   
“Let’s hope it was the right guy.” Bruce said with a snort grabbing Tony’s hand and dragging him to the elevator as lightning struck the building making the lights flash.

“I’ve been charged with bringing the hawk eyed one back to Asgard for healing.” Thor said following Bruce and Tony to the medical bay. “My mother, Frigga, believes our healing rooms can sustain him until a cure is found for what ails him, be it magical or of another cause.”  
“Great, let me talk with the doctors to see how we’re going to move him.” Bruce said blowing out a breath and heading off to the nurses desk.  
“How is the Hawk?”  
“Come see for yourself, Point Break.” Tony said with a sigh, showing the other man into Clint’s room, “Not doing that great. We don’t know how to treat it but he’s been doing steadily worse since the battle.”  
“We must hurry then.” Thor rumbled with a worried frown, taking in the fragile form of the omega in the bed before them. 

Clint was transferred to a rolling stretcher while the others quickly gathered what they might need for the trip. Tony and Bruce braced the stretcher as Thor called for Heimdall to transport them from the roof. In a whirl of light and sound they arrived on the bridge, Bruce already moving with the bed forcing Tony to stop gawking and help.

The stretcher was collapsed and transferred to a waiting carriage that took them quickly along the Rainbow Bridge and into the palace. The healers moved him quickly to the Healing halls where Clint was moved to a bed. Frigga and the other healers started immediately.

“They will work for several hours to stabilize the Hawk.” Thor said, guiding Bruce out of the way, “Let me show you to your rooms where you can rest. We will be called once they are finished.”   
“Are you sure he’s okay?”  
“He is in safe hands, Dr. Banner.” Sif said moving forward to help Thor guide them out of the room, “Lady Frigga is the best healer in our realm. Your friend will soon improve.”  
“Alright, we might as well get cleaned up.” Bruce said with a sigh trailing behind Tony and the others.

It wasn’t until early the next morning before they were called back to the healing halls. A glowing golden field surrounded Clint’s bed bathing his pale face in shifting shadows. Bruce moved immediately to go check on his patient only to be stopped just before the bed.

“We have placed him in a healing sleep; you cannot touch him while the field is active. He will sleep, undisturbed until a cure to his ailment is found.”  
“Do you know what’s wrong with him?” Tony asked moving to stand next to Bruce, giving his shoulder a squeeze.   
“His soul is pining for its lost half.”  
“His bond mate?” Bruce asked, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.  
“Yes, the one he knit his soul to. It is not a custom we use but his soul is searching for his other half.” Frigga said with a frown, gazing over the barely breathing body before her.  
“His bond mate died, that’s why his bonding bite healed and there isn’t a scar anymore.” Tony snapped.  
“His bond is still active; a thin thread still links the two mates.”  
“Yeah but we don’t know who his bond mate is even if he isn’t dead. We have no way of finding him.”  
“There we can help,” She said moving and taking a box from a waiting servant. “This crystal has been attuned to his mate. It will guide you to him so he may be brought forthwith. He must reaffirm the bond or even our healing magics will not keep the archer from death.”  
“Who’s going to bring him back?”  
“I would be honored to search for the Hawk’s soulmate.” Thor said stepping forward and accepting the box, “The man of Iron can accompany me in case we meet trouble.”  
“Fine, let’s get moving.” Tony said with a nod activating the suit of armor, “How long to we have to find his Alpha?”  
“A few more days at most, it depends on the strength of will of the affected.”  
“Then we must hurry.” Thor said with a nod, leaving the room with Tony blasting away already heading towards the bridge.

They landed with a slam in a snow filled forest, a clearing lay before them. Thor clutched the red gem that had led them here in one hand as he straightened. The two warriors glanced at each other as a massive door in the ground slowly opened, spilling light out into the woods around them. Tony powered up his repulsors as Thor hefted his hammer for a quick throw just in case. Several figures in black spilled out weapons pointed at them.

“We’re looking for an Alpha; we need his help with a wounded friend.” Tony said eyeing the weapons; they looked like standard Shield issue from this distance if he had to guess.  
“State your names and reason for trespassing.”  
“Tony Stark and Thor Odinson, we need to speak with all Alphas here on base. It’s a matter of life or death.”  
“You’re trespassing on government property.”  
“I don’t care, my friend is going to die unless we find his Alpha. We know he’s here.” Tony snapped, “So either you let us talk to all the Alphas on base or we bust in and do it ourselves.”  
“We’ve been instructed to let you into the hanger, the Alphas on base will be assembled.”  
“Thank you.” Tony snapped forcing the armor to jog over to the lift, he didn’t have time to waste.

Tony paced as the Alphas were assembled to one side of the hanger. Thor moved through them with the gem in one hand. He paused a few times but his frown only deepened as he reached the last Alpha.

“The Alpha is here but not in this group. Are there any others?” Thor asked looking around the room for anyone he might have missed.  
“Only a few bonded alphas.” The agent who’d shown them in said frowning at his tablet  
“Do they know their bonded? Our friend was bonded by force and never knew his mate.”  
“Let me check.” He said with a frown stepping away and talking into his radio as the rest of the alphas went back to work.  
“You’re just determined to make trouble, aren’t you Stark.” Phil Coulson asked coming down from a catwalk. “When did you hack my file?”  
“Wait a minute, you’re bonded to an omega and you never tracked him down?” Tony asked blinking at the agent, “We thought you were dead, why would I hack a deadman’s file?”  
“I actually was dead for a few minutes, I got better.” Phil deadpanned sighing as Thor rested the gem against his chest, opening his fingers to show the steady glow it emitted.  
“It is a match, Son of Coul is our missing Alpha.”  
“Wonderful, let’s get moving.”  
“Where are we going exactly?” Phil asked falling in step as they entered the lift.  
“Asgard, your bonded lies dying in our healing halls. You must reaffirm the bond for him to survive.”  
“Who is he exactly?”  
“Nope, you made Pepper cry, Agent. You can talk to your future spouse when we get there.” Tony snapped turning to Thor. “We’re outside, call Helmet or whatever his name is, we need to be moving.”  
“Of course,” Thor said with a nod, raising him hammer, “Heimdall, we are ready to return.”

As soon as they landed Tony grabbed Coulson under one arm and jetted them back to the healing rooms, Thor not far behind him. Bruce hurried to help the man up freezing when he saw who it was. He blinked at the man who gave him a bland smile, straightening his suit like he traveled by Ironman several times a week.

“Alright there green bean, need a breather?” Tony asked, tugging Bruce to stand near the door just in case they had to make a quick exit. “I thought he was dead.” Bruce said slowly taking off his glasses and checking to make sure they weren’t smudged or making him see dead people all of a sudden.  
“Nope, Fury is still a lying liar who lies.”  
“Okay.”  
“How’s Clint doing?” Tony asked as Thor showed Coulson to Clint’s bed.  
“Still hanging in there but not any better.”  
“Well, hopefully this will help, if not I’m all out of ideas.”  
“I think we all are at this point, even the healers were starting to pull out random obscure scrolls to try if you didn’t get back in time.”  
“Good to know panic is universal.”


	8. Chapter 8

Ch. 8

Phil made his slow way into the healing hall hesitating beside the glowing bed before he forced himself to step forward and see who lay within. He couldn’t stop the small wounded sound that burst from his throat as he recognized the person lying before him. Clint looked worse than when he’d first brought him into Shield, emaciated and too pale.

“Clint,” Phil murmured in shock, he’d spent the five or more years absently wishing he wasn’t bonded so that he could try for a relationship with the archer.  
“You need to reaffirm your bond with Eye of the Hawk if you wish to save him.” Frigga said moving forward to deactivate the field keeping him in stasis.

Phil climbed up next to Clint and pulled his limp body into his arms without a word. He nuzzled and stroked at his bonding mark for far too long before Clint shivered and sluggishly started to respond. He grasped at Phil weakly, blinking as the man placed light kisses to his neck and lips.

“Phil?”  
“There you are. I need you to wake up a bit, Clint.”  
“Tired,” Clint slurred from his slump against Phil’s chest.  
“I know but you need to stay awake. We need to renew your bond, you have to be awake for it.” Phil said stroking a hand down Clint’s back in soothing circles.  
“You were dead, my bond mate died.”  
“Just for a little while, I got better.” Phil said with a grimace, “Your bond is failing, our bond is failing, we need to renew it.”  
“My bonded died.”  
“Yes, but I got better. Do I have permission, Clint?”  
“You want to bond with me?”  
“We always were. Would have made things a lot easier if I’d just dated you like I always wanted.”  
“You wanted me?”  
“I still do, Clint, but we need to do this now. Will you accept my bond?”  
“Please?” Clint whimpered voice fading as his strength waned.

Phil shifted Clint forcing himself to ignore the weak whine it drew from the limp man. The assassin was nothing but skin and bone making him wonder how long Fury had been hiding his illness from him. The man weight next to nothing and was a wasted husk of the strong confident archer he’d known for years.

He pressed a quick kiss to the back of Clint’s neck before forcing himself to bite down hard, making sure he cut through the old scar and Clint’s bonding gland. Clint moaned as the bond snapped wide open making them both shudder. Normal bonding during a heat shared the pleasure and need but all Phil could feel was Clint’s pain and exhaustion. He tugged the frail body tighter against him hoping the contact would speed Clint’s healing.

“We would like to place both of you in a healing sleep to assist his recovery.” Frigga said coming to stand next to the bed.   
“Here?” Phil asked blinking as he tried to tear himself away from the sensations and half understood thoughts flooding the bond.  
“Yes, if you will lie down?”  
“Of course.” Phil eased Clint down pillowing him on his chest so they stayed in contact. Clint shifted weakly pressing his face against Phil’s neck with a sigh.  
“I can remove your clothes magically, skin on skin contact will speed the healing.” Frigga said gesturing for an attendant to bring a blanket.

Phil blushed but nodded, they’d already seen each other naked enough on missions even if this was very different circumstances. The blanket was draped over them as the lights dimmed. Soft golden light swept over them removing their clothes and leaving behind a bone deep warmth that relaxed their muscles urging sleep. Clint fought to keep his eyes open and on Phil, he couldn’t lose him again.

“Sleep,” Phil said in Clint’s ear, “I’ll be here when you wake up, and I’m not leaving you.”  
“Promise?”  
“Swear it, I’m never leaving you again, Clint. My omega, my bonded.”


End file.
